The Five Adventurers
by songwriter16
Summary: SEQUEL to THE FIVE MONARCHS! One year after her sudden disappearance, Henri appears back home, scarred and shaken, with no memory. Two years after that, she, Edmund, and Lucy, along with their horrible cousin, Eustace, are swept back into Narnia by a magical force. The four must help Caspian and his ship, the Dawn Treader, find the source of the green mist and destroy it. Ed/OC!
1. Prologue

**Wow, it has been about 4 years since I finished **_**The Five Monarchs. **_**I can't believe that I haven't written any more of this since so long ago! I apologize for anyone that has waited this long to read the next installment of this Narnia series. Is there anyone who is still around since the last installment? Let me know in the reviews! It would be so funny to have a few of the wonderfully faithful, kind readers from last two fics...mostly because it's been FOREVER! :)**

**For those of you that are new, welcome to my Henri Chronicles series! If you'd like to read the first two fics, go ahead and check out my profile. The first two installments are called **_**The Five Children **_**and **_**The Five Monarchs. **_**I also started writing this series in high school, so the first one is not as well written as I would like. Maybe one of these days, when I have time, I'll completely rewrite them so that they're of higher quality. **

**Anyways, onto the prologue of **_**The Five Adventurers**_**!**

**Thanks for reading, **

**SW**

* * *

PROLOGUE

* * *

Darkness.

Then light.

Sheer, blinding pain. Everywhere.

I blink. I can see now, but all that is in my vision is freezing, gray stone.

I remember floating a foot from the ground, just above the sidewalk. Then, I was dropped, my side slamming down onto the pavement.

The ribs on my right seem to crackle like fireworks as I roll over onto my back.

I can't seem to catch my breath and many parts of my body sting and ache. I hold my hands up in front of my face. Pain flows through them like a rushing river.

I gasp at the sight. They are grimy, as if I haven't been clean in a very long time. There are new scars that I don't remember having...at all. Blood trickles out of smaller cuts on my fingers. A long, thin, shallow wound left the back of my left hand a bit bloody.

I seem to have come to my senses now, but I'm still puzzled. Actually, I'm more than puzzled – I'm panicked.

Despite the thoughts bouncing around in my mind, I sit up slowly; my whole body struggling with the exertion. It is now that I see what I am wearing. I'm in…my nightgown? The end of the gown is torn in several places, shredded to ribbons at the very end. My bathrobe is riddled with holes. However, on the very back, most of the end is missing, as if it had been violently ripped through. Not only that, but I seem to be too tall for the end to be considered modest. How?

My legs are filthy and covered in scratches, my galoshes merely dirty. There are several questionable splotches of red on each boot, but other than that, seem fine.

I, on the other hand, am not fine.

Now I walk down the somewhat familiar street, panicking.

_What year is it? Why do I recognize this lane? Why can't I remember where I've been? _I think in haste.

A sharp pain courses through my temples so unbearably, I double over, clutching both sides of my head.

Hot and cold bombard my body and my ribs feel like they're about to crumble in my chest.

_"Where am I?" I demand. "Tell me now!"_

_ "You shall soon see, Queen Henri," the voice hisses._

The green mist clouds my mind, head pounding with every beat of my heart. I can't seem to get enough air. I deepen my breathing, but each time I inhale, it seems like I'm not ever quenching my thirst for oxygen.

All sounds have faded into nothing. All I can hear is my heartbeat. It's terrifying.

"Miss?"

I feel pressure on my shoulder and I recoil.

The attack fades into nothing as I back away from the kind voice. My vision clears and I see who stands in front of me. It's an elderly woman holding a basket and wrapped snugly in a coat, scarf, and hat. It is cold outside? Oh, there's snow on the ground…I hadn't noticed…

"Are you alright, miss?" asks the woman, eyeing my appearance with a wary glance.

I shake my head, unable to respond. Instead, I end up asking a question of my own. "Where am I?"

"You're in Finchley, dear, in London," she tells me kindly, but warily. "Elderberry Lane, actually."

My mind races. I recognize that name, I do, I just don't know why…

_I'm three blocks from home! _I realize quickly.

"Thank you," I say to the woman. "Thank you ever so much!"

I make my way as fast I can to the end of the street. I know where I am. I can get home.

There are many people who goggle at the state I'm in as I pass.

_Bugger off! _I think-scream at them as I pass.

As I walk up the last crosswalk to my own street, my head begins to feel faint. I can barely keep going, but I know I must. For Peter and Susan. For Lucy. For Edmund. They must be so anxious! I can't have been gone for long…

I round the corner of my street and finally notice all the festive lights and wreaths hung upon the doors of houses. It must be Christmastime. I've been gone for a few _months, _not just days!

My head starts to pound again as I hasten towards my destination. A shooting pain rips through my ribs again, making me feel as if my sternum is on fire.

I stumble forward and almost trip, which might have been disastrous in my current state. I feel something warm drip down off the side of my forehead. Sweat? I pull my hand away to see bright crimson. Nope. Not sweat – blood.

My stomach churns unpleasantly at the sight. _More _blood? What in Aslan's name have I been doing in my spare time?

My mood lightens significantly as I trudge up the garden path of my house. The lights are all on, indicating that the Pevensies are, in fact, home.

My state of health worsens as I take each step up the front door. I'm so light-headed, I can barely see what's in front of me. The colors have become one swirly mess of light and dark.

I lift up a battered, bruised fist and knock twice.

I brace myself against the side of the doorframe.

_I'm fine,_ I think. _I can make it in the door and tell them what happened…_

The door flies open. It's Lucy. And she's almost as tall as me!

"Henri?!"

I try to respond in some way, but, unfortunately, my body gives way to its protests. I hear her yell a name before I collapse, the world black and silent once again.

* * *

_One year later..._

* * *

Caspian was happy to finally leave the stuffy castle early the morning before, but now he is missing his rather large, comfortable bed.

The young king stares out into the open ocean, enjoying the crisp, salty air and the gentle rocking of his trusty ship. He rubs his eyes as the sun's bright light glares off the water, making him blink in the harsh reflection.

The Dawn Treader was making good time. The Lone Islands were only a day or two away now.

"How are we doing this fine sailing day, sire?" a voice pipes up from the deck at Caspian's feet.

Caspian glances down to see the ever faithful mouse, Reepicheep, beaming up at him with an incredible amount of cheerfulness.

"Just fine, Reep," Caspian replies. "Tired, but otherwise, fine. I'm enjoying being back out on the sea."

"Excellent," says the mouse, bounding up onto the railing next to king's arm with extreme grace. "And I agree. It is exquisite to be on the fine ship Dawn Treader once again! Your crew is keeping her in tip-top shape."

"Indeed they are," Caspian chuckles in agreement. "They make their work seem so simple."

"They did a fantastic job of repairing it after your late uncle left it to rot at the docks in the south," Reepicheep comments.

Caspian thinks back to his uncle, Miraz, and the state that Narnia was left in after his defeat three years ago. He smiles and agrees with his dear friend.

"The difference is like night and day. You would never have recognized it before now."

"Speaking of three years ago," Reep continues, "what do you suppose the five Kings and Queens of Old are up to now, sire?"

Caspian's eyes flicker down to the mouse and back up again, his face falling slightly at the mention of his friends.

"I have no idea," he tells Reepicheep, "but what I do know is that Queen Lucy, Queen Henri, and King Edmund are supposedly coming back to Narnia again sometime."

"Do you think anytime soon?" the mouse wonders.

The king shakes his head. "Perhaps…perhaps not. I assume not. They were gone for 1300 years before, remember? It is not likely any of us will see any of them again. I think all of us will be quite dead before any of them even step foot in Narnia again."

"It is…_possible _they could return while you are still king, sire," encourages Reep. "After all, Aslan does work in mysterious ways."

Caspian smiles at the small knight's optimism and places a hand on his tiny shoulder. "I hope you are right, my friend."

"And, if Aslan willing, you may once again lay eyes upon Queen Susan," says Reepicheep, a smirk on his face.

Caspian removes his hand and raises his eyebrows threateningly. "Well aren't you just _begging _to be thrown overboard?"

Reep laughs nervously. "Sorry, sire."

Caspian can't help but laugh along with him, finding amusement in the sudden change of the mouse's demeanor. "Well, you're not wrong."

"I'm not?"

"Of course not. I believe it was made very clear who I preferred romantically."

"Nevertheless, sire, there are many a village maiden who talk of marriage. There has been gossip around towns among them, wondering who you will favor most at the next ball," Reep tells him.

The king scrunches his eyebrows at his friend. "How in Aslan's name are you aware of this?"

"I'm a mouse, sire," chuckles Reepicheep. "I can go many places without drawing attention to myself."

"That you can," Caspian nods in agreement. "That you can."

"Sire! King Caspian!"

Caspian spins quickly on his heel to see his captain, Drinian, shoving his way through the other sailors.

"Four people have been spotted off the port side! They seem to be struggling in the water!"

"Well, let's waste no time! Let's get them onboard!" Caspian announces, tugging off his shoes.

The king and several of his men dive off the left edge of the ship, hoping to rescue these people before the ocean swallows them whole.

The teal sea tosses Caspian around before he surfaces, gasping for air. He swims over to a girl who's shouting, seemingly keeping herself above water quite well although panicking slightly.

He gently, but firmly, grabs hold of her shoulders.

"Don't worry, I've got you!" he says loudly over the crashing of the waves.

Suddenly, the brown-haired girl turns, her familiar, but more mature, face bobbing up down into the saltwater. She smiles in recognition.

"Caspian!"

"Lucy!"

* * *

**Please make sure to review, favorite, and follow! I'm going to try to update weekly, so stick around if you can! :)**


	2. The Painting

**Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first official chapter of **_**The Five Adventurers! **_**In this chapter, we learn just a bit more about the day Henri appeared on the Pevensie doorstep.**

**You'll notice that all the characters have matured a bit since it is, in fact, three years after **_**The Five Monarchs. **_**You'll also notice that Henri is a bit different in this fic. There will be more explanation on this in the chapter, as well as the story continues. **

**Hope you enjoy! :)**

**SW**

* * *

Chapter 1: The Painting

* * *

Edmund

This one of my last chances to sign up for the war.

I stand in line anxiously, hoping that my sister and best friend don't catch me in this hall again.

I was – no, _am _– a king. I was one of our country's leading military strategists. I understand war formations and tactics as well as anyone. Why wouldn't they want someone like that fighting for England?

"Next!" calls the recruiter.

I step forward. Suspicion flashes over the man's face as I do so.

"Are you sure you're eighteen?" he asks skeptically.

_No, I'm seventeen, _I think quickly.

"Why? Do I look older?"

The pace in which I delivered that sentence sounded so very unconvincing. I know I'm done for now. He won't even let me into the medical exam for sure.

The recruiter doesn't respond and holds out his hand for my registration card.

I hand it to him, internally wincing. This is the most unsuccessful attempt I've ever made at joining up.

"Alberta Scrubb?" he scoffs.

"It's a typographical error," I respond, lying through my teeth. "It's supposed to say Albert _A. _Scrubb."

"Edmund!"

I whip around, heart racing, stomach on the ground.

It's Lucy, standing next to Henri, who holds the box of vegetables in her hands. They both have a very annoyed look on their faces.

"You're supposed to be helping with the groceries," Lucy scolds.

I turn back to the recruiter, hoping my face isn't completely red. I snatch the registration card back, stuff it in my pocket, and step out of line.

"Better luck next time, eh, Squirt?" someone laughs.

The man behind me jostles my hat.

I see Henri tense as I walk towards her and my sister, adjusting my cap back in its proper place.

"Just ignore him," Henri tells me, shaking her head. "He's an absolute bloody git, he is."

"Language," Lucy retorts cheerily.

Henri rolls her eyes.

I know she's attempting to make me feel better, but it's not working.

As we step outside, I take the crate of turnips from her to strap onto the back of Lucy's bicycle.

"Squirt?" I protest. "He barely had two years on me. I'm a king! I've fought wars, and…and I've led armies!"

"Not in this world," Lucy reminds me.

"Yeah. Instead I'm stuck here," I grump, "doing battle with Eustace Clarence Scrubb. If anyone so deserved a name."

"If anyone does, it's him," agreed Henri. "I caught him snipping the toes off my tights the other morning. He's a vile monster."

Her gaze goes back to Lucy, who's standing across from us, her line of vision somewhere else entirely. She looks a bit dazed.

"Uh, Lucy? Earth to Lucy," jokes Henri.

Instead of responding, Lucy moves her hair behind her ear.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

This seems to snap her out of it.

"Nothing," she replies sheepishly.

She quickly grabs the handlebars and swerves the bike around. "Come on, then!"

Henri and I share a puzzled look, glancing at each other, then at whatever she was staring at. We shrug.

Lucy is fifteen now and has started to want to be a lot like Susan. At least, that's what Henri's theory is. But I agree with her. Lucy may be wanting to be Susan, but there are times when I remnants of the queen she is – Lucy the Valiant; always trying to be kind and caring towards Eustace, who consistently finds ways to break her things or mess up something she's done for him.

I glance from Lucy, who is riding in front of me, to Henri, who is just trailing behind. I still have feelings for her – and they only grow stronger by the day.

Henri is beautiful. Of course, I think she always has been, but these past two years, she has looked more beautiful than ever. She's a bit taller, not too much shorter than I am now. Her hair has faded just slightly darker, and her eyes bluer. But the brightness, the spark in her eyes that had been there ever since I had met her, was gone.

Lucy is the same person she's always been. Henri, on the other hand, is different. She has been ever since she appeared on our doorstep almost two years ago. I was so relieved to see her alive, but worried about where she had been and what she had experienced. It was her appearance that frightened me the most.

I think back to that day often.

_Two loud thumps sound from the door. _

"_Lucy!" I call from my spot in an armchair in the living room. "Your friend Louise must be here!"_

"_Coming!" she calls back._

_I turn back to my book, wishing Henri was here to talk about its contents with me. It feels like it's been forever since our days in the tower of the Telmarine library; sorting out books and laughing at ones teeming with historical inaccuracy._

_I hear the front door open._

"_Henri!?" _

_I snap my book shut, head whipping towards the front door, where Lucy stands seemingly in disbelief._

"_Henri!" she screams, kneeling down to the ground. "Edmund! Edmund! Peter! Susan! Mum! Help, somebody, help!"_

_I'm there in an instant. _

_My breath catches in my chest._

_Henri._

_My best friend in the entire world._

_And she's collapsed on the front step!_

_I pick her up off the floor and yell to Lucy to grab a blanket and call for Mum. _

_Lucy jumps up, spreads a blanket on the sofa, and slams the door behind me. I cradle Henri close as I walk her over to the soft cushions. She's absolutely freezing!_

_As Lucy thunders up the stairs, bellowing for our mother, I gently lay Henri down. I grab an extra pillow for her head to rest on._

_My heart might break my rib cage it's beating so firmly. If my loud, fast heartbeat alone doesn't wake her up, the screaming and slamming of doors throughout the house most definitely will._

_I crouch by the sofa, softly taking her hand in both of my own. I make sure I'm careful. Her fingers are covered in bruises – her hand too. And the other has a long, thin cut oozing blood. _

_As I hear Susan and Peter yell confusedly back at Lucy, my eyes graze over the state of Henri's clothes and face._

_A long cut traces her forehead and along the side of her face. I can't tell how deep it is because of the sheer amount of blood. It drips slowly down her cheekbone and towards her ear. There are smudges on her face made of dirt and grime and…is that sand? She's wearing the exact same nightgown, coat, and galoshes from the night we met up in the field between our schools a year ago. But she's gotten taller – the nightgown is shorter. And the number of holes, tears, and pieces missing off the hem are too many to count. _

_Her hair that is usually so well taken care of and shining is a lackluster, tangled mess. There are chunks of what looks like dried blood and mud caked throughout the strands._

_I choke up just looking at her._

_Someone gasps loudly behind me. It's Susan, a hand over her mouth in surprise._

_Peter scurries over immediately. His face is hardened._

"_Ed, what happened?" he demands, squatting next to me._

_I shake my head, almost unable to get out the words. "I – I don't know. She just…appeared at the door. Lucy opened it and she just, j-just collapsed! There wasn't anything we could do."_

"_Poor Henri," Susan sobs, tears already streaking down her face. She approaches slowly, then kneels down on my other side._

"_There's…there's blood everywhere," Peter stammers. He sounds choked up, too. _

_My breathing becomes shallower. Am I panicking? I don't think I've ever panicked like this before._

"_Ed, calm down," Susan tells me, laying a hand on my shoulder comfortingly._

"_How am I supposed to be calm right now, Sue?" I burst, a flurry of emotion coming out in one short shout._

"_Edmund," scolds Mum._

_She and Lucy approach quickly. _

_Peter and Susan both stand to move out of Mum's way, but I refuse to move._

_Mum stays fairly calm, her eyes flickering over Henri's limp figure._

"_Peter, call an ambulance," she orders over her shoulder._

_She places a hand on Henri's neck, checking for a pulse. "Her heartbeat is weak."_

"_She must have lost a lot of blood," Lucy nods._

"_How?" Susan queries exasperatedly._

"_Does it matter how at this point, dear? She's home and we're never letting her go again," Mum replies firmly. She turns to me and speaks softly, so the others won't hear. "Are you okay, Ed?"_

_I shake my head, eyes fixed on Henri's face. "I thought of her every day."_

"_I know you did. Everything will turn out to be okay. I promise."_

And, for the most part, Mum was right. Henri has been back with us for two years. There's just one catch – she doesn't remember anything from the entire thirteen months and fifteen days she was missing.

* * *

Henri

I pull up next to Lucy in front of the Scrubb house, sighing. In my opinion, any time away from Eustace is good time. The brat doesn't know when to shut up and when to mind his own business. I've taught him a good few lessons, I have, so he's scared of me. But that doesn't stop him from picking on Lucy and getting on Ed's last nerve.

Edmund and I haven't been as close as we were before my disappearance. When I first awoke in the streets, all by myself and in horrendous pain, all I wanted was to be back with him and the other Pevensies, for everything to be back the way it was before. But it wasn't. I had a hard time being back home with them. With him. Loud noises of any kind would set me off at first. I didn't know why. Several times, a door would slam and the next thing I knew, I would have a heavy object in my hand, aimed to strike at the person next to me. And most of the time, that person was Edmund. I sometimes screamed when someone's arm raised quickly next to me. I was on edge constantly. I had nightmares and then couldn't remember _any _of them the next morning. When doctors asked what I remembered about being gone, all I saw was green. A green mist and a voice that hissed nonsense at me is the only memory I have. And I don't know why.

I'm quieter now. I don't make as many jokes. I get annoyed more easily. I am angry a lot of the time, and, to be honest, I don't always know why. And I'm angry at other people a lot, too.

I feel like Aslan has let me down. He said we were going back to Narnia at some point. It's been three years and _still_ nothing. For one of those years, I was missing and now I can't remember what happened. I am angry at the world and it is Aslan's fault. He let this happen to me.

I haven't expressed that anger to anyone except Lucy. She and I have grown closer over the time I've arrived back with them. I know Edmund is hurt by it. But I don't want to give up more of my heart than I already have.

In my heart of hearts, I know that I still have feelings for Edmund. I can't help it. But that fear I felt as a young fourteen-year-old is back; this time in a different way. I am a lot to deal with. I've got emotional baggage I don't even understand yet – why drag someone else along with me and put them through pain when that's not necessary?

But Edmund seems to understand that. He doesn't push emotional conversations of any sort. I don't know if he still has feelings for me. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. I'm a lot now. I don't think I fully know myself anymore.

As we enter the house, Lucy greets her uncle.

"I'm home! Hello!" she calls up the stairs, alerting the royal git patrol that we're back. "Hello, Uncle Harold!"

She prances into the kitchen as cheerily as can be. I wish I could be oh so happy as she is on a regular basis. I used to be that way.

"I tried to find carrots, but all they had were turnips again. Shall I start making soup? Aunt Alberta's on her way home."

Edmund very kindly takes my coat for me. I smile lightly in thanks. He grins back.

But then our attention is drawn to the Pevensie siblings' inattentive uncle.

"Uncle Harold," says Lucy, irritated.

I roll my eyes in Mr. Scrubb's direction. He's a lazy lump who doesn't care about anyone but himself. A selfish git. Ed and I have agreed that we despise him.

Edmund sticks his tongue out at his uncle.

"Father!" shrieks the most annoying voice in the world. "Edmund's making faces at you!"

I spin on my heel to see Eustace standing near the top of the staircase, a straw in hand. He blows through the straw, launching a spitball at Ed's neck.

My blood is immediately boiling. I launch myself up the steps, my fist raised.

"Why you little…" I sneer, stomping, fist raised.

"Father, Henrietta is going to hit me!" snivels Eustace.

"You're pathetic," I retort under my breath.

"Henri, Edmund, look!" Lucy squeals, bounding into the foyer and holding up a letter. "It's from Susan."

My eyebrows shoot up, gaze flickering back to Edmund, who seems to have followed me up the steps towards his cousin. I internally am grateful for the backup in case Eustace had retaliated, but at the same time, I feel slightly annoyed. I am able to handle myself quite well.

"Can we go read it together?" Lucy pleads hopefully.

"Course, Lu," nods Ed. "Let's make sure we get this maggot out of earshot before reading it."

He gestures to Eustace, who scrunches his face in disgust. Then, the spoiled brat stands, huffs at us, and stamps up to his room, banging the door on his way.

The three of us can't help but roll our eyes and make our way into me and Lucy's shared bedroom.

The room itself isn't as dreary as it used to be when we first moved to Cambridge. The colors aren't horribly dark, but they are fairly plain. Lucy's bed is up against the right-hand wall, across from the door when you first enter. Mine is on the far left, up against the back wall, hugging the side. We have a small mirror next to my bed on the wall, and a painting that Lucy and I rather enjoy right above a small fireplace. I like the color of the waves. We haven't seen the ocean in so long and I dearly miss it. It reminds me of the Narnian seas from the Golden Age when we all ruled. And the ship painted in is magnificent, as well as looks a bit Narnian.

I go and sit on my own bed, while Edmund reads over Lucy's shoulder on her own.

"America seems so much more interesting than England," my friend comments as she tears open the envelope. "Henri, did your mum and dad talk about America a lot before they died?"

I pry back through my childhood memories. They seem to have taken place such a long time ago…

"Not that I remember," I say.

Lucy begins to read. "_Dear Lucy, Edmund, and Henri…It was so good to hear from you all in this last letter! Lucy, it sounds as if you're becoming quite the cook. Good for you! I'm excited to taste your vegetable soup when I get back. Edmund, I hope you're not still trying to sign up for the army. All the same, we all know you'd be an excellent soldier_."

"Did you tell her I'd been trying?" groaned Edmund.

"I might have mentioned it," shrugged Lucy.

"Aw, Lu!"

I wave my hand. "Keep reading, Lu."

"Sorry, sorry…where was I? Oh! _And Henri, I do hope you have a few novels to recommend for me and Peter. We're running out of options here! Do you know of any American authors that are worth investigating? Please let us know. I will admit, I do wish you were here with us. It's been such an adventure, but nothing like our times in Narnia. America is very exciting, but we never see father. He works so very hard."_

I can't help but internally grunt as the subject changes to Susan's male encounters in America. While I can't help but be happy for her, it gets quite vexing hearing about new dates and courting attempts in every single letter. Each one seems to be filled with more and more stories like that. I don't care, and Edmund certainly doesn't, but Lucy finds them thrilling.

She continues to read. _"I was invited to the British consul's tea party this week by a Naval officer, who happens to be very handsome. I think he fancies me."_

I notice Ed studying the painting, eyes taking in each detail and brush stroke.

I don't mean to stare at him, but I can't help myself.

The years of maturity have been kind to Edmund. While Eustace is still in the preliminary stages of growing up, his voice is fairly irritating. Ed's voice never had such a nasally, sharp tone. And the freckles he had as a twelve-year-old haven't yet faded, which I like. They suit him nicely. It is easy for me to look at him. I don't get tired of it, but yet I should. After everything that's happened, I can't help but still admire him…even if it's just from afar.

_"It seems the Germans have made the crossing difficult right now. Times are hard," _recites Lucy. _"Mother hopes you three won't mind another few months in Cambridge…"_

At that statement, my stomach drops. My head whips around to look at Lucy, who's equally as shocked and disappointed.

Ed's face hardens as he walks over to skim over the letter himself.

"Is she serious?" I ask harshly, crossing my arms.

"Another few months?" gapes Lucy. "How will we survive?"

"You two are lucky," comments Edmund. "At least you two get to share a room. I'm stuck with mullet mouth."

I chuckle lightly at the nickname.

"Susan and Peter are the lucky ones," sighs Lucy, standing from her spot on the bed. "Off on adventures…"

I shake my head in disbelief, then march over to take a look at the writings myself.

"We've had plenty of adventures, Lu," I tell her, sitting next to Edmund, who as stretched out comfortably on the bed.

I snatch the papers from him.

"Hey!" he protests.

I ignore him and scan the paper for confirmation of us staying with Eustace even longer.

"But adventures in Narnia are different, Henri. America may not be a different universe, but it does sound like an entirely different world. Susan and Peter always get to do the fun things in the real world," Lucy complains.

"Yeah, they're the eldest and we're the youngest. We don't matter as much," Ed agrees.

I toss the letter back to him, shaking my head more. "You'd think after being missing for a year without memory that your mum would at least consider taking me with her to America."

"Yeah, but I couldn't survive here with our dreadful cousin if you weren't here to smack him around," smiles Edmund.

"You'd handle yourself just fine," I say back, no amusement lacing my tone. "You'd be prodding and poking him just as much as I have."

I can tell that I've shut down his joke.

"Maybe," he replies quietly. "But it's more fun to beat him up as a team. I'd have less fun beating him up by myself."

For once, I let myself smile. "You're not wrong."

"Do you think I look anything like Susan?" Lucy wonders dreamily, staring at herself in the small mirror near my bed.

I frown. Was that rhetorical question?

Edmund sighs again, throwing the letter down on the bed beside me. He gets up quickly, again going towards the painting.

"Henri, Lu, have you seen this ship before?"

"Yes," Lucy grins. "It's very Narnian looking, isn't it?"

The three of us gather in front of the gorgeously painted teal waves.

"It's beautiful," I say quietly. "It makes me wonder how Caspian is doing."

"Yeah, well, just another reminder that we're here and not there," says Ed defeatedly.

"There once were three orphans who wasted their time believing in Narnian nursery rhymes."

We spun around suddenly to see Eustace's warped face standing inside the doorway of the room, smirking lightly, proud of the stupid limerick he had just created in our expense.

"Please let me hit him," hissed Edmund, stepping warningly towards his cousin.

"Better yet, let me teach him another lesson," I step forward with him, voice low.

"No!" Lucy refuses, holding us each by a sleeve.

"Don't you ever knock?" Ed gripes bitterly.

"It's my house," is Eustace's excuse. "I'll do as I please. You're just guests."

"And you're just a cockroach," I snark. "Anything else obvious you'd like to point out?"

"Cockroaches are some of the most interesting creatures on the planet," Eustace defends. "I will gladly be called a cockroach. They're scientifically fascinating."

I roll my eyes and turn back to the painting.

We're all hoping he'll just bugger off if we don't look at him.

"Well, at least cockroaches are fascinating. What's so fascinating about that picture, anyway? It's hideous," he continues haughtily.

"You won't see it from the other side of the door," Edmund grumps.

"Or from under your swollen eyelids," I mutter.

Lucy nudges my arm, her eyes widening.

I hold up my hands in defeat. She was telling me to hold my tongue and not be so violent.

But then, Lucy's gaze becomes fixed on the painting. "Henri, Ed…it looks like the water's actually moving."

I squint my eyes, staring down the waves intently as Eustace rambles on with his usual ruddy answers.

"What rubbish. See? That's what happens when you read all those fanciful novels and fairytales."

"There once was a boy called Eustace, who read books full of facts that were useless," Edmund shoots back immediately.

"He was sad and alone, though his parents were home, and ate so many sweets, became toothless," I rattle off, amused.

The three of us share a good laugh, the first one we've had in a long while.

"People who read fairly tales are always the sort who become a hideous burden to people like me, who read books of real information," the Scrubb boy protests firmly.

For a moment, I could have sworn the ship seems to sail just a bit closer to us. But then, after hearing Eustace's cocky attitude and snobbish comments, I couldn't hold it together any longer.

"Hideous burden?!" exclaims Edmund, whirling around to face his blithering idiot of a cousin. He approaches him angrily, and I follow close behind. Eustace cannot continue to say such things.

"I haven't seen you lift a finger since we've been here," he accuses.

Eustace darts for the door, but Ed is faster. He slams it before the younger boy can even reach the handle.

"All you do is thieve our things, break them, and blame it on us," I tell him firmly.

"Henri and I have a right mind to tell your father it was you who stole Aunt Alberta's sweets," warns Ed.

"Liar," Eustace declares.

Edmund chuckles darkly. "Oh, really?"

"Henri, Ed, the painting!" cries Lucy.

I spin on my heel to see that Lucy is right! The painting is spraying sea water everywhere. A salty breeze blows in through the canvas, water leaking down off the frame and into our bedroom.

Lucy and I share a shocked look.

Narnia! We're finally going back to Narnia!

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed the first official chapter of **_**The Five Adventurers! **_**Please make sure to leave a review, favorite, and follow this fic if you'd like to read more! :)**


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